


Behind Enemy Lines

by Darkness_Rising



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Interrogation, OOC thought's by Onslaught, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:24:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkness_Rising/pseuds/Darkness_Rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a battle Sideswipe ends up as a guest at HQ Combaticons, and in Vortex's interrogation room. The front liner seems to be on the verge of giving up and dying, but with the help of an unlikely source he may just survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those unfamiliar with my work, the Lambo twins x Combaticons are pairings my partner in crime Acidgreenflames and myself have created. Generally we pair up Sideswipe x Onslaught and Sunstreaker x Vortex, (and often the four together) and usually all plots end up with romantic liaisons of some sorts. This story is my first attempt at writing them as the enemies that they are supposed to be and in doing so I was more interested in tackling that than the plot, so the plot in general is a little loose.

“Listen Autobot, I _will_ get the information I’m after so you might as well cave now, save yourself all this pain.”

The words of promise were quietly intoned directly into an audial from behind but the Autobot didn’t flinch, his only movement the twisting of his hands as he worked at trying to break his shackles, the metallic cord used cutting at the more fragile tubes in his wrists. However the damage was nothing compared to what had already been inflicted on his frame, or what was yet to come.

“What secrets do you think I carry exactly?” Sideswipe snarled. “I fight the front line. I’m disposable.” Optics flashed defiantly. If this was to be his end, if he were to die at the hands of the interrogator then so be it, but he would not sell out his comrades in order to save his aft.

“Yet for some reason I don’t believe you.” Vortex straightened up, hidden smirk on his face while hands clasped between his back and rotors. He had often wondered what it would be like to break one of the former gladiators; so many times he had fallen victim to them in battle, either in his own form or as a component of Bruticus, but he had never been able to get his hands on them. 

Until now, and it seemed that the Autobot wanted to make it fun for him.

Energon already decorated Sideswipe’s frame, bleeding from the few lines that had been disconnected, severed, although nothing too bad had been inflicted at this stage but enough to cause discomfort. In addition to the energon a few scattered gouges creating asymmetrical patterns littered his plating, protoform peeking through and vulnerable, and the interrogator had barely begun. 

With Sideswipe staring ahead, unyielding to the Decepticon, Vortex smirked to himself. “Fine, we do it the hard way, which just so happens to be my favourite way.” The Combaticon circled the Autobot until he stood before him. “But don’t say I never gave you the choice, well, if you can still _say_ anything by the time I finish with you.”

Dark, blank optics remained fixed ahead, as though looking through Vortex’s frame while the Decepticon stood in Sideswipe’s line of sight.

“Nothing to say Autobot? Funny how you usually have _something_ to say when your twin has your back.” Sideswipe’s blank mask remained in place at the mention of his twin. “Heard the pair of you are split spark. I don’t care for the specifics myself but what I _have_ heard is that you can feel each other’s pain, amongst other things, but it’s the pain part which intrigues me.”

Vortex’s hands were no longer clasped behind his back, now he was flexing one of them, claws bared. “Now I wonder if he can feel this.” Before he had finished the sentence there was a crack across the exposed part of Sideswipe’s cheek, a claw cleaving a gash in the malleable layer across his nasal structure, leaving blood-energon in its wake.

Sideswipe couldn’t stop his hiss as pain spiked through him, his head thrown to the side with the impact but not before his face had been scored.

Of course Vortex had no way of telling whether or not Sunstreaker had felt that, nor did he really care, but he did garner some satisfaction that the twin in his interrogation room was not _as_ impervious to pain as he had so far shown himself to be. 

Returning his gaze to the wall ahead of him Sideswipe could only leave the energon trickle from his damaged nose and pool in the crease of his lips.

“Still nothing to say?” Vortex leant down to get his face right into Sideswipe’s. “Then, let your silence seal your fate.” 

The small movement of Sideswipe licking his bloodied lips was not warning enough to the Decepticon before the front liner spat at the interrogator, covering the ruby visor in blood-energon and oral lubricant. “Do your worst, reprobate.”

Snarling a response Vortex drew his clawed fingers across his visor, smearing the bloodied spittle before straightening up. “I only wear the blood-energon I spill.”

Sideswipe braced himself for another crack across the face but it never came. Instead the Decepticon stepped away, moving towards a table full of instruments glinting ominously in the flickering overhead light. Walking down the length of the table claws gently trailed over the array of tools before Vortex paused to caresse one of the apparatus. Sideswipe could not help but let his optics follow the trail the Decepticon made, instantly recognising the instrument Vortex currently fondled. 

The front liner had seen the Autobot medic use the same forceps on his twin and comrades time and time again, and undoubtedly they had been used on him too when the medic needed to hold chest plates open in order to gain access to his spark chamber. Sideswipe returned his gaze to the wall ahead but not before Vortex had taken a look over his shoulder, catching the movement of his optics, smirking to himself.

“Hmm, maybe a bit too early for that one.” The interrogator mused out loud. “Would be game over far too soon.” Focusing back on his toys, Vortex continued to slide his fingers across the various items until a gratified sound left his vocaliser while claws raked down the length of his chosen tool, fingers wrapping around the handle. “Perfect.” He husked. 

~|~

Electricity arced through Sideswipe’s frame causing him to curve as far out of his seat as his shackles would allow him, plating pulling tight against his protoform in order to protect him only to instantly flare wide, expelling heat from fried systems. With his HUD screaming warning alarms at him a maniacal cackle sounded in the background, Vortex taking much delight in Sideswipe’s reaction.

Sideswipe had lost both track of time and the number of hits he had taken as he was currently only aware of the pain burning through his circuits, no doubt damaging the finer wires and relays beyond self-repair. The volts had started low and had remained unchanged until these last few attacks, and although the increase in power was only minute, after all Vortex did not want to overdo it so soon in the game, with his frame already sensitive to the previous electrical assaults the prod may as well have been plugged directly into his systems.

Panting through his pain Sideswipe refused to cry out, instead clenching his denta, grinding metal on metal and biting down hard he swallowed the sounds. As the last flare of electricity died down his frame became slack once again over tense cables creaking as they relaxed. Optics which had flashed brightly with the surge of power now flickered dimly but the only sound the front liner gave up was the whirring of his cooling fans and the rapid venting which he couldn't control as he tried desperately to draw air into his vents. His shackled wrists were the only reason his limp and exhausted frame had not slumped out of the chair as recharge protocols demanded to be allowed to take over his operating systems in order to both conserve energy and activate self-repair, but Sideswipe refused to give in, only shutting his HUD down instead; he would not succumb to his frame’s demands whilSt Vortex remained in the room with him. 

The odour of singed rubber and heated metal hung in the air like thick and cloying smog while energon simmered hotly through Sideswipe’s lines, coolant surging through his systems in response to the rising heat, the cooling liquid battling to keep his core temperature even.

“So Autobot, you ready to spill?”

Meekly Sideswipe lifted his face to meet the Decepticon’s. After the repeated assault with the electro-rod his head felt impossibly heavy but the Autobot refused to be cowed, refused to appear weak. “Never.” He snarled.

“You really are a tough one, not that I’m complaining,” Vortex leered at Sideswipe. “All the more fun for me. However, I’m done for the day as there’s a cube of energon with my name on it and a mech waiting in my quarters.” Moving out of Sideswipe’s line of sight Vortex grabbed the rear of the seat the Autobot was tied to, tipping the mech backwards and dragging both the chair and Sideswipe behind him, metal legs squealing through the corridor as Vortex headed for the holding cells. Practically shoving the chair into the closest room the interrogator released the ties, snorting at himself for even bothering to allow his prisoner any comfort by letting him recharge on the berth, despite how hard and cold it was, and he left the damaged Autobot. “Recharge well fair Autobot, you’ve a long day ahead of you tomorrow, depending on how long you can hold out for.”

Then Sideswipe was alone. 

The darkness of his underground prison enveloped him like a blanket but it offered him no solace, instead it was cold and dank, a stark reminder that he was a prisoner with no means of escape. He had no idea where he was, the concrete walls only telling him that he was not aboard the Nemesis. Eventually dragging himself from the chair he had been shackled to Sideswipe collapsed on the berth, remaining as he fell with frame and limbs twisting uncomfortably and no will to move; pain from overstretched joints distracting him from the pain inflicted by the Decepticon.

Not wanting Sunstreaker to know what he was going through Sideswipe had kept his bond with Sunstreaker closed throughout his ordeal but now, needing Sunstreaker more than ever he tentatively peeled back the blocks, reaching out for his twin. However Sunstreaker was only faint echo in the background, just out of reach, leaving Sideswipe feeling his distant life force and nothing more. They were simply too far apart.

For the first time in his life Sideswipe realised that he was well and truly alone, and that it was unlikely that Sunstreaker or any other Autobot for that matter, would be crashing through that door any time soon. In his realisation fear began to trickle through the captured Autobot just like the energon which trickled down his plating, seeping slowly but surely. Fear was not an unusual feeling for the former gladiator to experience, despite those around him assuming he and Sunstreaker were _fearless_ , but he knew how to channel it, to use it to his advantage as to lack fear would only serve to get him killed, but to show it would bring the same end too.

However here in the bleakness, where no one could see him, he let the sensation flood through him and over him, pressing down on his frame, heavy and oppressive, crushing him under its weight. Ragged vents becoming further laboured as his terror consumed his mind and spark, optics focused and unfocused in the darkness seeing nothing else but the black shapes which did not exist. 

With echoes of energon pulsing in his lines along with the pulse of his spark in his chest pounding over loud in his audials, Sideswipe missed both the sound of his cell door opening and the mech entering; his first inkling of company being when an unfamiliar energy brushed against his own and it was not through will or defiance that he did not flinch, but through sheer lack of energy.

The closer his visitor moved towards him the stronger the brush of energy, and the deeper his fear spiralled. Surely it could not be that time again! He had only just arrived in the cell, hadn’t he? His processor was struggling to compute between his chronometer and the fact that Vortex was already here for him, all the while his frame screamed for rest.

Finally the silence was broken, a vocaliser cutting through the heavy air and the vibrating in his audials. “Sideswipe.” A voice that did not belong to Vortex. Sideswipe’s entire system froze for a moment as he tried to decipher who the voice belonged to. He knew it was not an Autobot, no matter how much he silently begged for it to be. “Are you operational?”

 _Operational!?_ The front liner’s mind screamed while his processor raked through his memory files, trying to give the voice a face or a name, but the process was slow, singed and damaged wires corrupting some of the data flow.

“I asked you a question, soldier.” The words were confident, demanding an answer while the energy field which still brushed against the edge of Sideswipe’s field was guarded.

When Sideswipe offered no response the light in his cell came up, sending a sharp pain through his processor as optical sensors fought to adjust before he gave up and shuttered his optics. Moments later he heard his visitor move the chair that he was sure that he had only just crawled out of, and step the last pace to the berth he lay on.

Despite his attempts at keeping his vents even, trying to portray a state of recharge, his systems gave him away, none running in the idle state they would be in had he been recharging. Unexpectedly a large servo landed on the front liner’s shoulder and suddenly Sideswipe found the energy to react as he flung himself across the small space, pressing against the wall his berth was fixed to, grunting with the force at which he hit the concrete wall while trapping himself. Battle protocols booted up but just like all his other systems, the programming was hampered by damage to relays.

The touch to his frame was now replaced by gruff words. “Calm yourself Autobot, I only wanted to check you were still functioning.” Such formal words, and finally Sideswipe realised who was in his cell with him. 

The ruby twin was caught between relief at the fact that it was not Vortex who had come for him, and fear that he was now trapped with the Combaticon commander; the tactical mind behind the unit and a brute force to be reckoned with when he needed to be.

“Sit up!” Onslaught demanded. He had no time for weakness and he knew this Autobot was not weak.

Sideswipe remained pressed against the wall, optics still shuttered to block the light as he repeatedly attempted to reboot his battle protocols; all the while his energy field flared and snapped wildly, uncontrollably, the Autobot unable to keep a hold on every part of his being. Onslaught could feel the dread bleeding from their captive, the anticipation of what was to happen, and he found himself stepping back, pulling his energy with him and silently offering Sideswipe space.

Feeling the commander withdraw slightly Sideswipe took a deep vent and pulled himself together. He was pretty sure that if he made the Decepticon ask him to sit again it would be Onslaught’s hands that would do the talking next time, so slowly, Sideswipe manoeuvred himself away from the wall, pushing himself into a seated position, his back still to the door and his unwelcome guest.

Onslaught’s patience was wearing thin but for some reason he bit back the order he wanted to bark. “Let me see your face.” This time there was no command behind the words. 

Confusion swept through Sideswipe but reluctantly he complied, he simply did not have the energy to do anything other than to do so. Allowing his optics to relight dimly, the front liner turned his head, his injured cheek and nasal structure now on show to the Combaticon leader. Onslaught momentarily winced behind his mask. The wound was still open, energon-blood dried around the gouge, the tail end of the slash only just missing the corner of Sideswipe’s optic.

“Self-repair not working.” A statement rather than a question. “Here.” Onslaught’s tone had turned gruff again and had Sideswipe’s thoughts had been coherent, he may have noticed that there were undertones of embarrassment there.

From his twisted position Sideswipe could just make out the bright glow of energon in the commander’s hand, his dim optics briefly flitting from the glow to Onslaught’s masked face and back again.

“You’ll need it.” Onslaught picked back up again. “To aid your self-repair.” 

Once again confusion welled through Sideswipe. Why on Cybertron would the Decepticon want to help him self-repair…unless this was also part of the torture. “No thank you.” The words were barely croaked; just another system damaged by the electro-rod.

Onslaught tilted his head, gaze fixed on Sideswipe as the younger mech turned his head away. “It is not tainted, if that is what you think.” 

A sound that could be deemed a snort left Sideswipe. “More’s … pity.” Static now laced the Autobot’s vocals. Well, at least now he would not scream his pain when he became too weak to keep control of himself.

Annoyance prickled at the Decepticon. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Autobot.” Only a slight movement of ruby coloured plating acknowledged the comment. “Yet you talk as though you wish to die.” Sideswipe shrugged silently in response, pain lancing his frame as he did. "So you are a martyr for you cause." Onslaught stated.

“Ti…ed.” Sideswipe rebooted his vocals in an attempt to clear the static. “Tired.” He tried again. “Tired of fighting.”

It was hard to miss the obvious slump of Sideswipe’s shoulders, or the defeat which rolled off the small but powerful frame and the commander had no clue as to why, but he suddenly found he could not bear to see this soldier, one who fought the front line with his twin as if they owned it, give up on his life so easily.

This sudden deluge of unwanted compassion had the large Combaticon retreating towards the door, but not before he left the energon cube on the chair Sideswipe had earlier been tortured in. 

The sound of the heavy door slamming shut had Sideswipe jumping, the sudden emptiness of the room echoing the fact that he was alone again, and he waited for the blackness to envelope him once more; but the single bulb remained dimly lit, casting sickly hues of light around his prison and across his marred plating. Remaining as he was the front liner let time pass before he attempted to move, sliding himself across the hard berth until he could swing his legs around to sit on the edge, jet black finger tips clasping tightly to the metal edge while he waited for his gyros to stop spinning. 

Dialling up his optical sensors a little more Sideswipe caught sight of the energon cube on the chair and for a short while he just looked at it from the corner of his optic, until finally, he admitted to himself how much his frame was crying out for his energon reserves to be replenished.

Taking in a deep draught of air the Autobot forced himself to his feet, his gyros protesting once more at the movement and demanding that he lay down, but as much as he swayed Sideswipe forced himself to stagger the few paces between the berth and the chair. If anyone could see him they would assume he was overcharged, and he would have giggled in an overcharged manner at the sight of himself, if he had been capable of laughing. Luckily no one was there to see him; well no one other than whoever was watching at the other end of the feed from the small camera lurking in one of the dark corners, a minute green flashing light the only indication that the device was active.

Practically falling into the chair Sideswipe grabbed the back of it in order to steady himself, the jarring movement of his frame against the smaller object sending the cube of high grade skittering across the small surface. Despite his sluggish frame he somehow he managed to reach down and grab at the sliding cube while remaining on his feet; however he was not fast enough to catch the other object that he hadn’t noticed was beside the energon. 

Clutching at the cube, dim blue optics tracked the smaller container as it slid off the edge of the seat and crashed to the floor. Sideswipe braced himself for the sound of shattering glass but by some miracle whatever it was didn’t smash on impact, instead its cylindrical shape allowed it to roll in an arc until it came around to where he stood, only stopping to rest at his foot. Switching to macro vision, it figured that a non-essential function would still be working, he zoomed in on the small receptacle and read the glyph inscribed on the tube; _Sterilising fluid._

Sideswipe frowned briefly before using his foot to slowly shift the small bottle towards the nearest wall, his foot feeling like a lead weight as his energy waned. He followed the glass tube, allowing his shoulder to rest against the wall with a thud before sliding down it and collapsing into a heap on the floor. He felt the rough concrete surface strip his shoulder of colour nanites, no doubt leaving a ruby streak behind not too dissimilar to human blood down the wall. Frankly though he didn't give a damn, nor did he care for what Sunstreaker would say.

Sideswipe’s spark clenched. Okay, that was not strictly true, because if Sunstreaker was hassling him over the state of his frame then that meant Sunstreaker was here with him. Instinctively, Sideswipe reached across the bond again, only to met by nothing more that a distance presence. 

Twisting himself around the Autobot managed to get himself marginally more comfortable as he pressed his back against the wall, letting it bear his weight. Without fail his gyros protested at all the exertion and Sideswipe found himself retching as nausea took over, but with his energon levels extremely low there was nothing for his tank to purge.

After all that effort the front liner once again found himself panting as he fought the queasiness, his vents eventually becoming slower and deeper as the feeling passed. The gladiator turned front liner honestly could not recall the last time he felt this pathetic, so defeated. Not even during his early cycles in the rings, when he and Sunstreaker had the slag beaten out of them, did Sideswipe feel this pitiful.

When Sideswipe was sure that his gyros and tank had settled he raised a shaky hand to his mouth, the energon cube clattering against his denta as he took a small sip, a vile taste coated his glossa but out of desperation he forced himself to intake the low quality energon; the bitter tasting concoction the product of the countless attacks the Decepticons had made on this planet’s energy reserves. However right now, the Autobot could convince himself it was the sweetest of high grades as his frame begged to be replenished with the foul liquid. Maybe he could shut of his olfactory sensors, dulling his taste...oh, surprise, surprise, another system that refused to respond to his command. Not allowing another moment’s thought else he would change his mind, Sideswipe harshly threw back his head, his black helm hitting the wall as he did and he guzzled down the revolting energon.

Whether it was the near violent thumping of his head against the wall or the energon hitting his tanks, Sideswipe couldn't be certain, but either way his systems rebelled and tried to force the energon back up his intake. But Sideswipe fought with himself, refusing to allow his frame to dispel of the only energon he was likely to get, and he dragged his knees up so that he could rest his forehead against them, panting once again before drawing a deep draught of air and holding it until the feeling passed. 

~|~

From the confines of his office Onslaught watched the live feed on the large wall monitor. He observed as Sideswipe stumbled across the small space between the berth and the chair in his cell, the Autobot finally taking the energon he had left him; his dislike for its poor taste clearly evident on the screen as the Combaticon commander zoomed the camera image in.

With Sideswipe’s head resting on his knees now, visibly panting, Onslaught reached out and lightly brushed his fingers over the screen, as if brushing along the lines of the front liner’s helm in an attempt to soothe him. Catching himself in the act, the Decepticon snorted and focused his attention on panning the camera back out so that he could see Sideswipe’s whole frame.

The behaviour of the Autobot was so different to the night before, when he arrived at Combaticon HQ. He was brash and insulting, bating Vortex to do his best, and his worst, as the interrogator threw the partially drugged and beaten prisoner into the cell. Drugging Sideswipe had been the only way the rotary could get one up on the front liner, until now. But now that Sideswipe’s systems were in no doubt faltering after a full cycle of electrical torture, Vortex was the stronger mech and he would be relentless in breaking down the Autobot further.

But there was something inside Onslaught that did not want to see this particular prisoner reduced to this state, something he could not explain other than it he didn't like to see Sideswipe lose his life in a one sided battle. Snarling at his stupid and illogical feelings Onslaught turned away from the monitor. He was a Decepticon and Sideswipe was an Autobot, who had allowed himself to be captured by them and was now paying the price. That was all that should matter.

Glancing back at the screen the commander watched Sideswipe look back at him, a frown on his face as he stared up at the camera in the corner of his cell. The Combaticon leader found himself stilling, almost as if he was afraid of being detected while the front liner continued to stare for a few beats longer before he feebly bared his denta, no doubt snarling.

Onslaught allowed himself a small smile; the Autobot was not quite defeated yet. Then Sideswipe turned his face away, leaning his head against the rough concrete wall, his optics dimly flickering as he stared at the ceiling. 

~|~

With his tank finally settled again, his venting back to slow and ragged, Sideswipe slowly lifted his head from his knees, mindful to not upset his gyros again. Barely moving his dark optics flittered around his cell until a tiny flash of light caught his attention and slowly the front liner turned his helm until he found himself looking at a camera, the green light which had attracted his attention blinking lazily back at him, telling him he was being watched. 

Remaining motionless the Autobot continued to watch, fingers twitching on his knees where his hands rested, itching to retrieve a blaster that was no longer in his possession so that he could blow the camera away. But instead all he that could do was offer a small snarl, baring his denta as he did; the sound weak and the grimace just as pathetic as pain rocked through his head at the slight action.

Turning away, not really caring if he was the object of someone’s attention, Sideswipe concentrated on activating his HUD again, wincing as error reading after error reading pinged at him…

\- SPARK ENERGY LEVEL:_83% :_RECOMMENDED ACTION:_MEDICAL ATTENTION

\- PROCESSOR POWER:_ 85% :_RECOMMENDED ACTION:_MEDICAL ATTENTION

\- SELF REPAIR:_48% CAPACITY:_RECOMMENDED ACTION:_REFUEL

\- FUEL LEVEL:_19% :_RECOMMENDED ACTION:_REFUEL **WARNING:_CRITICAL AT 15%

\- CAPACITATOR:_OVERCHARGED:_RECOMMENDED ACTION:_DISPERSE EXCESS ENERGY

\- PHOTORESISTORS:_DAMAGE DETECTED:_15% ;_RECOMMENDED ACTION:_ MEDICAL REPAIRS REQUIRED

\- GYROSCOPE PERFORMANCE:_CALIBRATION REQUIRED

\- REBOOT LOG:_BATTLE SEQUENCE:_REBOOT ATTEMPTS: _01 FAILED

                                                                                        _02 FAILED

                                                                                        _03 FAILED_ AUTOMATIC ACTION:_ABORTED

\- BATTLE SEQUENCING:_OFF LINE

\- GRAVITY SENSORS:_OFF LINE

\- BINARY CODES: _010010:_CORRUPTED

                         _001010:_UNRESPONSIVE

                        _011111:_UNRESPONSIVE

                        _110100:_CORRUPTED

                        _010011:_CORRUPTED    

…and the list went on. 

Unable to do a thing about any of the issues listed Sideswipe shut down his HUD again; there really wasn’t any point watching his stats drop further, or his systems fail one by one. Feeling unstable, despite sitting propped against the wall, Sideswipe dropped his arms from his knees until they rested beside him, palms pressed on the floor in order to steady himself. It was as one of his hands brushed against a small object that he remembered the tube of sterilisation fluid that had been left with the energon.

Sliding his hand to the glass receptacle, Sideswipe wrapped his fingers around it, dragging his hand into his lap, the small movement taxing his exhausted systems. Only when he felt he could move his head without the desire to purge did he look down at the contents in his servo, frowning. It had to have been Onslaught who had left this for him, when he left the energon, but why?

Sideswipe’s processor was sluggish as his self-repair tried to replenish his systems, but he tried to find logic behind the commander’s behaviour until the ache in his processor got the better of him and he shut the line of thought down. With optics darting around the room he spied a piece of folded gauze he had not noticed before, still on the chair. After staring at it for a few moments the Autobot decided to drag his weary frame off the floor again, he would be better off laying on the berth anyway; and no matter how much he did not want to fall into recharge, he desperately needed it.

The effort to get to his pedes was a mammoth task, his gyros trying and failing to make sense of the movement with his gravity sensors off line. He almost purged his tank before he had completed his task but he was determined not to lose any of his already low fuel so he did everything in stages, until he had managed to grab the gauze and fall on to the unforgiving berth.

Some time passed before he was able to move again, a shaky hand opening the bottle of sterilising fluid, soaking both his fingers and the gauze as its contents slopped about before Sideswipe cautiously lifted the sodden material to his face, hissing upon contact as the sterilising fluid burned at the damage inflicted by Vortex’s claws. Not wanting to draw out the discomfort Sideswipe pressed harshly at the wound, squeezing at the gauze so that drops of the solution would work its way inside the cut, cleaning from the inside out.

Being on Earth meant they were susceptible to the many bacterial elements that the planet harvested, their frames still not used to the alien microbes; their own metallic planet only plagued by such things through warfare, such as biological attacks by Shockwave and his cronies. But here on Earth there was bacteria everywhere, both good and bad, and Primus knows where the interrogator’s hands had been. 

Giving his face one final wipe with the sterilising fluid the front liner ignored the other wields on his frame, his frame too tired for him to care as the tube rolled out of his slackening grip as Sideswipe drifted into recharge, no longer able to override his own programmes.

000000000000000

“Where do you think you are going Sunstreaker?”

Stern vocals momentarily stopped the golden twin in his tracks. Sunstreaker should have figured he would not get very far, but they could all go and frag themselves if they thought he was going to wait here and do nothing. “I’m doing what you’ve failed to do, what we should’ve done solar-cycles ago!” Sunstreaker spat as Prowl stepped out from the shadows cast from the tail end of the Ark caused by the moon shining over the crest of the volcano.

“I have told you that we are doing all that we can for the time being. You need to trust us Sunstreaker.” Prowl was unflinching as the larger Autobot glared back at him.

Sunstreaker snarled as he passed the senior officer. “Trust you, my aft!” 

Optics tracking the front liner, Prowl let the comment slide. This was not the first time that one of the twins had gone missing, and as always, the remaining twin would never rest until the other was found, but this time Sunstreaker was even more frantic than usual as Sideswipe had been missing since battle, tonight being the second night he had been gone. “And where will you look Sunstreaker? You have heard Mirage’s report. Sideswipe is not aboard the Nemesis and right now we have no leads to follow. As soon as…”

“Then we go back to the scene of the battle.” Sunstreaker shouted as anger, frustration and fear bubbled inside of him. “There has to be some clue to where he is, he can’t have just vanished, he’s a fragging great big red Cybertronian, not really difficult to miss on this mud ball!” Sunstreaker was shrieking by now, his vocals slicing through the silent night air.

“Calm down Sunstreaker.” Prowl coolly intoned as Sunstreaker became even more worked up. 

The shrieking however did not stop. “Calm down! _CALM DOWN!”_ Sunstreaker stalked back towards the smaller Praxian. “Sideswipe’s been missing since battle, that’s two cycles…”

“Two days.” Prowl succinctly replied.

Sunstreaker stiffened for a moment, confusion scratched across his face. “What!?”

“We are on Earth Sunstreaker, we measure time in days, not cycles.”

The front liner could see that the officer was deadly serious. His twin had been missing for two cycles…no, make that _days_ , and Prowl was concerning himself with whether or not Sunstreaker was using human terminology or not. Sunstreaker had to call upon every ounce of his restraint to not send Prowl sprawling to the ground.

Unable to find a response that could even remotely convey his feelings at this moment Sunstreaker shook his helm roughly and picked up from where he had been interrupted. “All command have done since Sideswipe went missing is sit on their afts talking about it. Well I’ve had enough fragging waiting, I’m off to find my brother!” Spinning on his foot, the front liner launched his transformation sequence.

The lines of coding however did not complete their sequencing as all conscious thought disappeared, sending a golden frame crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Someone’s going to be pissed off when he comes around.” Ratchet intoned as he materialised beside Prowl, his electromagnetic pulse generator folding back into his arm.

Prowl gave the CMO a small frown. “Do you always have to resort to the slang of other cultures Ratchet?” Ratchet smirked at his fellow officer. “Just doing my bit to fit in with the locals Prowl. Besides, did you not just correct Sunstreaker for not using human terminology?”

Prowl vented. “That was different Ratchet, and you know it.” 

Chuckling, the medic quickly scanned Sunstreaker’s vital signs before calling over his shoulder. “Hoist, Grapple, get him up on the trolley and to the med bay.” The two Autobots materialised from the Ark entrance and did as instructed while Ratchet turned to Prowl, his face now gravely serious. “Please tell me there _is_ a plan Prowl.”

The tactician turned his face towards the distant skyline. “Unfortunately Ratchet, I cannot tell you that. We really do not have any leads.”

“Why the frag was he behind enemy lines?” The medic growled.

Prowl’s attention was back on the medic, an optic ridge raised. “You do know this is Sideswipe we are talking about?”

“’Course I slagging know that! I was just…” Ratchet caught Prowl staring at him intently. “Never mind…” A red hand waved dismissively. “I’m just venting.”

Prowl remained silent.

“So, what now?” Ratchet asked. “Everything Sunstreaker said is right. It’s been two days and I know I don’t need to tell you the odds of finding Sideswipe alive drop with every passing day." 

“No Ratchet, you do not.” The tactical officer clipped as his optics travelled over the gold frame now strapped to the gurney.

Turning to follow Hoist, Grapple and the unconscious Sunstreaker back into the Ark, the CMO paused for a moment. “Maybe this is one of those times when we throw caution to the wind.” Prowl clenched his jaw. “We know where Sideswipe isn’t, so why not just storm every other Decepticon camp we know of. What have we got to lose?”

“The element of surprise for starters, once we attack one they will know…”

“Frag the element of surprise.” Ratchet cut in. “The current surprise to the Decepticons is the fact that we haven’t attempted a rescue mission yet.” Having said his piece, Ratchet headed inside. 

A gentle breeze fluttered around Prowl as he watched the others disappear inside the Ark.The problem was, Prowl one hundred percent agreed with the CMO, but he would not, _could_ not send other mechs out there blindly. Currently there was only one life at risk but if they attacked without strategy…Prowl cut the line of thought, gazing up at the night sky as though he were searching for an answer in the stars gazing back. Either way the outcome was not favourable, and he would never forgive himself if even one life was lost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vortex continues to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to drop the Alone from Alone Behind Enemy Lines as the title felt awkward.

Pain seared through Sideswipe as his frame hit the ground, abruptly waking him from recharge. He had no idea where he was or what was happening, and before the pain of impact had the chance to ebb away agony from his shoulders erupted as his arms were yanked back at awkward positions.

“Wakey, wakey Autobot, time to rise and shine.” 

None of the words made sense to the front liner as he was dragged a small distance before a second set of hands grabbed at him, hauling him upwards and dropping him into a seat. Sideswipe sent out a questioning pulse through the bond to his twin, wondering if he had done something to upset his golden counterpart but as he realised there was no connection other than the feel of his life force in the distance, mocking words suddenly enlightened him to his situation.

“The sun is shining and the skies are blue, but not for you fair Autobot as we have much work to do.” A positively sinful chuckle rang out loudly. “I’m a poet and I didn’t know it.”

A second voice, one Sideswipe once again knew but right now could not quite place, replied. “The frag’s a poet?”

“Tut, tut Brawlie. Now Blast Off would be most upset if he realised you’ve not been listening to his ramblings about Earth literature and history.” Sarcasm dripped from the words.

Brawl grunted as he gave Sideswipe a deft punch to the abdomen, knocking the air out of his vents so that his frame relaxed out of his control while his wrists were bound to the chair. “Like you take any notice of that slag Tex.”

Snorting, the interrogator gave the bindings a yank to ensure they were secure. “But I am good at faking it...that and it’s hard for some things not to stick. Now, I‘ve a busy schedule here with our friend...” Vortex tipped the chair back so that Sideswipe was staring up at him. “So we need to get a crack on, and I’m sure Onslaught has some menial duties for you to perform.”

Brawl frowned at his gestalt mate. “What about my time with him?” The tank leaned into the space over Sideswipe’s face, one fist clenched and punching into his other hand.

“All in good time Brawl, all in good time. Now let me do what I was created to do and I’ll see you later, and believe me, I will have a lot of pent up energy to release tonight.” Vortex leered at the silent Autobot. “Maybe before I let Brawl get his fists into your plating I should send you to his berth, let him release some of that tension you seem to be carrying.”

Sideswipe’s plating pulled closely against his frame, his EM field just as tight as the very idea of either of these Decepticon’s touching him in that manner made him sick to his core.

Snorting his disdain Brawl retorted. “I prefer my berth partners to have a bit more go in them, not to just lie there like a slab of lifeless junk.”

Finally regaining some control of his weary frame Sideswipe kicked out at the green Combaticon, sending the tank stumbling backwards in an ungainly manner, the Decepticon falling flat on his aft. 

“Fragging creation of a whore!”

Vortex guffawed at his comrade. “Seems our fair Autobot still has some fight in him. Now Brawl, get off your aft you lazy slagger and tie his ankles to the chair. We don’t want him wearing himself out too soon by fighting back. 

A silver foot kicked out again, this time catching Brawl’s hand and breaking several of his fingers.

“You little sh…” Whilst Brawl was focused on name calling, Sideswipe lashed out yet again, catching the same hand. “Frag! Frag! Frag! I’m gonna kill you!” Brawl reached into sub-space with his good hand, drawing out his blaster.

Vortex quickly let go of the chair, leaving it and Sideswipe to tip backwards while he flew at Brawl, knocking the blaster out of his hand. Gripping the now empty hand the interrogator bent it back at the wrist, cowing Brawl and forcing him to his knees. “I should break this hand for you too, you dimwit.”

“Get the frag off me.” Brawl snarled whilst trying to break the grip Vortex had on him.

“If I wanted him dead I’d have killed him already.” Vortex applied a little more pressure, causing Brawl to howl. “Mercy?” He growled.

The tank glared from behind his mask, hissing his pain but saying nothing.

 _“Mercy!”_ This time the word was spat at him just as a little more pressure was added, the joints now straining while cables were over stretched.

“I fragging hate you!”

“No you don’t. Now all you have to do is say it.” Just as Vortex was about to apply enough pressure to fracture the joint a voice boomed over the central comm. system.

//Vortex, stand down!//

Looking over at the camera in the corner of the cell the interrogator snarled but didn’t release Brawl’s hand.

// _Now_ , Vortex.//

On the verge of defiance, Vortex began to apply that extra bit of pressure and Brawl squirmed below him.

//If I have to come down there so help me Vortex, I will beat you to a scrap heap.//

Vortex knew that Onslaught was not bluffing so huffing an annoyed sigh he released his gestalt mate’s hand, but not before pushing him back onto his aft.

//Swindle.// Onslaught called over the comm. //Meet Brawl and I in the med room, and Vortex, you and I will be talking later.//

Throwing a single fingered salute to his commander Vortex turned back to his prisoner. “We’ll see how much fight you have left in you by tonight.” Reaching into subspace the rotary pulled out a syringe of dark fluid. “Now let’s see if we can get to the interrogation room without further incident shall we.”

Sideswipe began to thrash in his chair as his captor knelt alongside him, but there was nothing he could do with his arms trapped painfully between the back of the chair and the concrete ground. Instead of using the intravenous port in the Autobot’s wrist a large dark servo gripped the black helm, turning his head until Sideswipe faced the masked face of the Decepticon, the light from behind Vortex’s red visor staring straight at him before the needle was plunged into a line that fed through his neck and to his processor 

Optics, already dim, flickered as Sideswipe gave one last feeble attempt at breaking away, but his processor was already shutting down and within seconds his optics became dark, his facial features slack.

Tipping his head Vortex studied the Autobot, brushing a claw over the healing cut across his face,;the fact that it had healed so much already not even registering to him. “Shame you don’t do it for me.” He murmured. “Now that twin of yours… "

His musing was cut short when Brawl finally climbed back on his feet and moved to retrieve his blaster. “You’re fragging nuts.” He muttered.

“And you’ve only just realised this.” Vortex snorted as he too stood up, dragging the back of the chair up with him. “I’ve wasted enough time already. Oh well, I’ll have to cram in twice the amount of fun.” Heading for the door with his cargo in tow the rotary almost sang at Brawl. “See ya later!”

A hidden angry scowl was the only response Brawl gave, but he knew he would be there, the berth was the only place he had any dominance over the heli-former.

~|~ 

A low, annoying and tuneless hum met Sideswipe as he came back around. The room was not brightly lit but it hurt when he activated his optical sensors, no doubt his photoresistors still not fully repaired as his HUD would prioritise his most vital systems. Vortex had however caught sight of the blue flickering light.

“Took your time coming ‘round there.” The voice came from across the room and as Sideswipe searched the room for the interrogator he realised he was no longer sat down. Instead, his arms were above his head while his feet were flat on the floor, all limbs spread and chained in place. Vortex was casually leaning against his table of toys, one of the inanimate objects in his hands as fingers stroked his tool of choice.

“Thought I’d take advantage of your off-line state.” Vortex continued and horror rocked through Sideswipe.

 _Advantage!_ He silently screamed. _No!No!No!_

Vortex saw the horror on the front liner’s face, his hidden smirk revealed by the slight flicker of light behind his visor. “So you do fear something. But that isn’t what I meant.” Vortex straightened up and stalked towards Sideswipe. “As undeniably attractive as you are Sideswipe you just don’t do it for me. Now Sunstreaker, I imagine he could treat me in the way I like to be treated. You see, after all this…fun I have, I need someone to take me in hand, dish out a bit of what I give if you know what I mean.” Sideswipe tensed at the comment. He would rather be violated in that manner than let this twisted fragger near Sunstreaker. “For some reason I can’t see you being that mech, but Sunstreaker…”

“He’d never let you near him!” Sideswipe snarled, his hatred for the Decepticon curdling in his near empty tank.

“Maybe not.” Vortex laughed as he now circled the Autobot. “Thinking about it, I wonder where that twin of yours is. You’ve been here over two days now and he hasn’t made an appearance. Extremely disappointing really, must be disappointing for you too, I guess.” Vortex came to a standstill in front of Sideswipe, his masked face level with the front liner’s.

If Sideswipe was honest, he too was wondering when his brother was going to come crashing through those doors to rescue him but at the same time he wanted Sunstreaker to stay away, far away; to not risk being captured and going through whatever Vortex still had in store for him.

“Anyhow, let’s not waste any more time with idle chatter. You’ve quite a day ahead of you.” With that Vortex flicked his wrist, revealing the full extent of the object in his hand as suddenly the room was filled with a static crackle which Sideswipe instantly recognised. He was no stranger to the energon whip having been on the receiving end of it many times during his gladiatorial cycles, and if he thought yesterday was tough then today was clearly going to be a whole other level of bad for him.

His frame was already arching away from the sound but his shackles held him tightly in place.

“Now, now Autobot, I haven’t even started.” Vortex grinned behind his mask as the hand holding the whip stock suddenly ghosted over Sideswipe’s hip and up to his waist, the stock making most of the contact, the trailing fall buzzing in anticipation and gently flicking against his leg with the movement; although there was nothing gentle about the painful tingle it inflicted.

Under other circumstances, ones where he was not being tortured, the front liner would have found the sensation arousing, that fine line between pleasure and pain, but not today. No, today the sensation only served to fan the flames of the fear he was trying so hard to keep a hold on since he let them consume him the night before.

“So Sideswipe.” The words came from extremely close proximity now as Vortex’s masked face lent in towards an audial. “Are you going to give me what I want, or do you still plan on drawing this out?” A clawed hand raked across white abdominal plates, the normally stark white plating already marred and scorched after yesterday’s endeavours.

But Sideswipe remained silent, shuttering his optics and bracing himself, gritting his denta ready for the first attack.

The moments between Vortex’s hand leaving his frame and the sound of a crack as the popper sliced through the air were fleeting, and before the sound had even dissolved in Sideswipe’s audials the thong of the whip thudded against the side of his knee while the electric fall painfully snaked around his lower leg, both the force and the electricity generated there burning against his plating. Then just as quickly, and with a deft flick of Vortex’s wrist, the whip was unfurled from burning plating, leaving a stinging echo behind; oh yes, Vortex really was a dab hand at this and Sideswipe was about to find out how much so.

“I have to wonder if you get a thrill out of this pain game.” Vortex mused, his voice now coming from behind the Autobot. “I’ve had most Autobots screaming for mercy upon arrival, knowing exactly what is in store for them, but not you…” The popper snapped through the air again before the crackling fall struck his lower back plates, just above his black pelvic armour, energy skittering over his plating and into transformation seams. “You seem to encourage it.”

With his arms and legs held firmly in place Sideswipe’s back arched away from the pain and the whip, his shoulder and hip joints creaking under the strain. His jaw felt as though it had locked in place, pain shooting through the side of his head as his denta clenched painfully tight, but not a sound left the Autobot. 

Whether it was intentional or not, the interrogator allowed enough time for the Autobot’s frame to relax back into place so that he was no longer straining against the chains which held him; not that Sideswipe was in any means relaxed, his plating refusing to leave any part of his protoform exposed while his energy snapped and flared erratically as it tried to propel the impending attack.

Throwing his head back Sideswipe kept a tight grip on his venting but the air was soon knocked out of his systems when not only did the whip suddenly strike him again, it landed exactly where the previous strike had landed, and this time it was too much leaving Sideswipe hissing as the burning pain lit up his sensors.

A sinister chuckle left Vortex’s hidden mouth. “It’s a particular skill of mine,” he offered. “The ability to repeatedly land a whip in the same place.” The Decepticon made his way around the shackled Autobot’s frame. “I’ve had plenty of practice you see.” The interrogator came to a standstill. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Keeping his optics shuttered and his faced tilted to the ceiling, Sideswipe denied his captor’s request 

This time the crack of the popper sounded from an alarmingly close proximity to his head before pain sliced through his shoulder.

“You fragger!” Sideswipe spat through clenched denta, his head finally dropping down, optics unshuttering to glare darkly at the Decepticon. “You might as well kill me now.” He rasped. “Because I’ll never tell you anything!”

Vortex canted his head to the side and regarded the Autobot for a moment. “You will.” He replied blandly. “But first we’ll have some fun. 

This time Sideswipe saw the crackle of light as the end of the whip flicked through the air, striking across his chest and marring his Autobot insignia.

While the whip slid from ruby red plating Vortex cocked his head, his private comm. pinging for his attention. //Busy Onslaught!// 

A few expletives came back down the line at him before his commander spoke to him. //I’m going off base for several hours and I want that Autobot to be alive when I return.//

Vortex could hear tension behind Onslaught’s words but he really couldn’t give a damn what was irking his commander today. //Whatever boss.//

//I mean it Vortex, you are not to kill him! Megatron has yet to decide if he wishes to trade him or not when you are finished.// 

This time Vortex took a moment to contemplate the tone behind Onslaught’s words. //Why d’you care so much?//

Onslaught’s clipped tone came back. //I care about what Megatron will do to us if we lose his bargaining chip. Now I am ordering you to restrain yourself.//

Grunting his agreement Vortex cut the line and refocused his attention on his prisoner. “Now, where was I?” He leered. “Oh yeah.”

_CRACK!_

000000000000000

 _“PROWL!”_ Sunstreaker bellowed as any grogginess that would ordinarily be felt when coming around from sedation was pushed aside by his anger. It was Ratchet who met him though as he swung his legs over the side of the med berth.

Most would have suggested keeping the golden front liner strapped to the berth but Ratchet had no qualms about squaring up to the fearsome mech, besides, keeping him strapped down would only further aggravate the black mood Sunstreaker would inevitable wake up in. _“Sunstreaker!”_ Ratchet snapped as he entered the med bay from his office.

“Who’s he hiding behind?” Sunstreaker growled as his feet hit the ground, his legs unsteady after the EM pulse administered by Ratchet.

Grabbing the mech to steady him Ratchet raised an optic brow. “You know Prowl doesn’t hide behind anyone Sunstreaker. Now why don’t you lie down and wait for the effects to fully wear off.”

Sunstreaker wanted to fight the medic off and get out there to look for Sideswipe, but even he had to admit he was feeling a little too woozy to be going anywhere. In an oddly submissive manner for the bullish mech, Sunstreaker allowed Ratchet to help him back on the berth and from nowhere Ratchet shoved a cube of energon in his face. “Sip this.” He commanded gruffly. “The additives will help speed recovery.”

Grunting, the front liner took the proffered cube. “You know as soon as I’m outta here I’ll be going to look for Sideswipe.” He had no idea why he was telling the CMO this as it could only lead to him being detained. 

Ratchet silently regarded the twin for a moment. “I figured that Sunstreaker.”

Taking a sip of energon Sunstreaker coolly looked back at the medic. “And you’re just going to let me walk out of here?”

“You’re not injured Sunstreaker. I have no reason to keep you here.” The pair now stared at one another in silence, Sunstreaker confused at the medic’s response. “Of course, you have a plan, don’t you?” Ratchet asked with an act of innocence.

Taking another sip of energon as a means to avoid answering the medic, Sunstreaker grunted. 

Ratchet ignored his reticence. “I assumed that when you tried to leave, you had a specific destination in mind.”

Looking away the front liner knocked back the rest of his energon, giving himself a reason to escape the med bay. Placing the empty cube on the berth, his optics pinned on the inanimate object, Sunstreaker muttered. “I’ve finished so I guess I can go now.”

Turquoise optics flicked from Sunstreaker’s face to the cube and back again. “I said it would help speed recovery, not that it was a miracle cure. You’ve been under sedation and you need to give your systems time to readjust.”

Growling, Sunstreaker pushed the medic’s hand away as Ratchet tried to encourage him to lie down. “He’s been gone for too long, they could be doing anything to him and you want me to wait!” The front liner pushed back off the berth and past Ratchet. “And if you try to stop me it’ll be you in need of a medic.”

Ratchet stepped back, hands held up. “I’m not going to stop you Sunstreaker, I’m with you on this.” Sunstreaker slowed his unsteady gait towards the door. “We’ve wasted enough time trying to come up with leads, and so far we’ve nothing.” The front liner turned to face the medic. “And now’s the time for action.” Sunstreaker regarded the medic. “But, you still need a plan.” The CMO continued.

“Thought you just said we’d wasted enough time.” Sunstreaker snapped.

Ratchet held the former gladiator’s piercing stare. “Yes, assessing the situation. All we’ve done is come up with the places Sideswipe isn’t, so now you need to know where it is you are going.”

Beginning to feel aggravated Sunstreaker growled. “So what’re you suggesting?”

“That you get back on that berth and rest just a little longer as you’re no use to Sideswipe if you collapse out there. And while you rest, just maybe something will come up.” Ratchet’s face gave nothing away.

Sunstreaker remained where he was, deciding what to do.

“Decision time Sunstreaker. Rush out there with nowhere to go or remain here just a little longer and your patience may be rewarded.”

Cobalt optics dimmed before Sunstreaker huffed a vent of frustration and wearily stomped back to the med berth, the sedative still working its way out of his system. “Fine! I’ll give it half an hour.” He groused. “Then I’m gone.”

Nodding, Ratchet watched Sunstreaker climb back on the berth before handing him another cube of energon. “Keep this for later.” Sunstreaker remained silent and sub-spaced the cube.

Listening to the medic’s retreating footsteps the front liner shuttered his optics and initiated his recharge protocol as he set his chronometer. Before he slipped into recharge however, his HUD pinged for his attention, telling him of a data packet transfer. Activating a virus scan Sunstreaker frowned as he mused over the possible contents and sender. Ratchet was the only mech who had been close enough for a wireless transfer, but why would he be sending a data packet? 

With his virus software giving him the all clear Sunstreaker activated the data packet and allowed the information to flow through his processor.

<SOURCE: ANON…CONTINUE?> 

Okay, so why would Ratchet be sending a data packet anonymously? Sunstreaker accepted the packet and finally the information held within was displayed. There wasn’t much to decipher, just a glyph and a series of co-ordinates.

The glyph wasn’t one Sunstreaker was familiar with as it was a little different to the language they used back on Cybertron, almost as if it were a hybrid. Sunstreaker studied the data again, activating a translation programme. Watching his HUD scroll through countless ciphers and codes the front liner began to think he was not going to be able to interpret the message and that he would have to ask Ratchet, assuming that it was the medic who had sent it to him of course.

But then again, if Ratchet had wanted to be associated with the message wouldn’t he have just _told_ Sunstreaker the information? Maybe the CMO was actually trying to help him, either that or he was trying to detain him until Prowl came to see him.

Sunstreaker became a little agitated as the translation programme ran but instead of just getting up and leaving he decided to look at the co-ordinates that had been included in the message, instructing his HUD to cross reference the co-ordinates with maps he had stored in his data banks. But all he received in return were error messages, as if the areas the co-ordinates led to did not exist. Patience waning, Sunstreaker switched his attention back to the glyph, the translation programme still in progress. This was useless. The information he had been sent was useless and he was wasting time he could be spending bringing Sideswipe back home.

Sunstreaker’s tank churned at the thought of his brother out there alone. He didn’t doubt for one moment that Sideswipe would be putting up one pit of a fight, but he was not invincible, neither of them were; everyone had their breaking point and what if Sideswipe had already met his?

Suddenly Sunstreaker rose from the berth, the need to find his brother more important to him than some useless data packet, but just as he stumbled off the berth his HUD sounded an alert. It had translated the glyph.

Pulling up the data Sunstreaker looked at two new glyphs flashing at him.

COMBAT

DECEPTICON

Frowning, he flicked between the single glyph and the two new ones before realisation kicked in. The reason he had not recognised it was because it was indeed a hybrid of two common glyphs, however Sunstreaker was still at a loss of what the message meant. Swaying on his feet the front liner looked over at the closed door of the CMO’s office, fully believing that it was Ratchet who had sent the packet. But why the cloak and dagger behaviour?

Taking the extra cube of energon from his sub-space that Ratchet had given him Sunstreaker quickly consumed it, hoping it would take the final edge of the effects of his earlier sedation. The front liner thought about the two glyphs, _Combat...Decepticons, Combat...Decepticons…_ several times over. “Combat Decepticons.” This time he spoke the words out loud. “Combat…Decept… _Combaticons!_ ” Finally it dawned on him, pulling a growl from the Autobot.

There was not a Cybertronian glyph that represented the term Combaticons, not in the traditional language anyway. The gestalt had not existed during their time on Cybertron having been created here on Earth.

But what was the message Ratchet was trying to give him? Huffing and annoyed vent of air Sunstreaker stormed across the med bay, roughly slamming his hand against the door release. The whole thing was ridiculous, and why Ratchet just couldn’t _tell_ him what he was trying to tell him was beyond Sunstreaker. The unlocked office door swooshed open and Sunstreaker didn’t bother waiting for an invite.

“Sunstreaker.” Ratchet was not at all startled. He had been watching the med bay via a camera feed. “I told you to rest.”

“Slag the rest!” Sunstreaker snapped angrily. “What is this!?” He pointed at himself.

A blank face looked up at the front liner. “What is what, Sunstreaker?”

“This!” He hissed. “The data pac…” 

Ratchet cut him off. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean Sunstreaker. Now I think you need to go back to your quarters and continue to rest and maybe do a little reading whilst you’re at it. I don’t know, maybe acquaint yourself with Earth’s terrain.” The medic shrugged. 

An incredulous looked bloomed over Sunstreaker’s face. “Sideswipe is missing and you want me to sit in my quarters and _read!_ ” Sunstreaker’s optics blazed angrily. “What is it with command and doing nothing!? I thought you understood what I was saying about getting out there to rescue Sideswipe.”

Ratchet rose from his seat, his optics dilating with frustration. “You really are obtuse sometimes Sunstreaker. Will you just trust me!”

Sunstreaker growled at his superior but Ratchet ignored the gesture. “Just quit it with the cryptic messages and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me.”

“Like I said Sunstreaker, I don’t know what you are on about and as CMO I am ordering you to your quarters.” The pair glared at one another, neither one to back down easily, but Sunstreaker did.

“Frag you!” He muttered as he turned on his toeplate and left. 

Ratchet sat back down, muttering to himself. He really thought Sunstreaker would have caught on quicker than this. Well hopefully the data pad the medic had left in his quarters whilst Sunstreaker had been under sedation would help the front liner finally realise what the medic was trying to tell him. Of course, Ratchet couldn’t be seen to be passing this information to him but he really did feel that the rest of the command team were taking too long in scoping out each known or rumoured Decepticon hideout. Unfortunately Sunstreaker had been a little slow on the uptake but Ratchet had confidence that he would figure it out, even if it did aggrieve him that he was encouraging the front liner to take matters into his own hands, and therefore risking his life. 

~|~ 

The door to the twins’ quarters closed behind Sunstreaker, plunging him into darkness. The quietness of the room was deafening, which bemused Sunstreaker considering how much he coveted his solitude, but knowing that Sideswipe would not be returning soon to disturb him made the silence unbearable.

Standing there in the darkness Sunstreaker reached across their twin bond, as he had done time and time over since Sideswipe’s disappearance. Each time he would be sure that this would be the time he would be met with nothing but when the distance presence of life trickled through, the golden twin would be overwhelmed with relief. Once again as his spark reached out he remained motionless, afraid he would miss that faint response he had been getting and when the weak signal of Sideswipe’s life hung in the distance, Sunstreaker collapsed to his knees.

But his relief was short lived as it bled to fear; fear over what his brother could be going through. Rising back to his feet the front liner finally commanded the lights up and looking around the cramped room his optics landed on a data pad placed on one of the berths. Glaring at is suspiciously he stalked over to the offending item, snatching it up and touching the home button, the display screen flashed into life and revealing a map. Checking the rest of the data pad contents Sunstreaker noted that the map was all that the pad contained.

Tired and confused, Sunstreaker sat on the berth and toyed with the device. 

_Maybe acquaint yourself with Earth’s terrain…_ Sunstreaker heard Ratchet’s words in his mind. Looking at the map again Sunstreaker found himself pulling up one of the co-ordinates from the data packet he had received, and tapped it into the pad. Then he watched as the image morphed in front of him from a wide aerial view to a close up of a mound in the ground. Panning the screen the front liner zoomed in the image until he could just make out a structure buried in the earth, a structure with a door. He then checked another of the co-ordinates and found himself looking at a similar image, and another, then another. 

All co-ordinates relayed similar images; hidden entrances that seemed to lead into the ground they were buried in. None of the places were familiar to Sunstreaker and finally he understood the message.

These could be potential Decepticon hideouts, ones the Autobots had not yet investigated. He then looked back at the glyph contained in the same data packet as the co-ordinates. “Combaticons!” He growled. They had never determined where the Combaticons were based, the Autobots only knew they were not living aboard the Nemeses.

So, if one of these locations were a potential Combaticon hideout then why had they not been investigated? Yes, Sunstreaker knew that with limited mech power there were too few of them to cover such a vast area but still, the Combaticons, they should have been the first port of call; what with having an interrogator amongst their ranks.

Sunstreaker’s tank roiled at the implication. To date, during the Combaticons short time on the planet the twins had managed to stay out of the interrogator’s clutches but the front liner knew of the psychopath’s reputation from back on Cybertron, before Onslaught’s anti-political team and had been decommissioned and locked away in the detention centre.

Extracting a data transfer cable from his wrist the golden twin downloaded the map to his data banks and while the information transferred fear rolled through the front liner again, causing his grip on the data pad to crack the screen. Ignoring the small splinters of glass peppering his fingers Sunstreaker’s processor catalogued the information.

Now he had a plan; which was to tear through every one of those potential hideouts until he found Sideswipe, and woe betide any Decepticon holed out in one of these places.


End file.
